Kids, pigs, and lambkins unsuspecting stray;

85

With grim delight he views the sportive band,

Intent on blood, and lifts his murderous hand.

Twangs the bent bow—resounds the fateful dart,

Swift-wing’d, and trembles in a porker’s heart.

Ah, hapless porker! what can now avail[[146]]

90

Thy back’s stiff bristles, or thy curly tail?

Ah! what avail those eyes so small and round,